


K-9's Cafe

by HiAjay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek smiled and when he looked up from the note. There . . . The thin, pale, whiskey colored eyes, beauty marks, and cupid bow lips boy was leaned against the front counter, smiling like the fool he seemed. Derek's smile was a grin and he leaned closer to the boy, arms spread wide as he leaned. His fangs threatening an exposure.</p>
<p>(Weird Coffee shop Sterek)</p>
            </blockquote>





	K-9's Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, I can totally explain-- I was well I was working on a new chapter for "Ours" and "I don't mind a Papa" AND "The ward," . . . When this came to mind. I was so ENGROSSED with the idea that I couldn't think about anything else. So . . . Chapters are late. Really late. But I will make a promise. I will post new chapters tonight and tell you all when I plan on updating, cause I seriously need a time schedule.

A small family owned coffee shop that Derek was ashamedly proud off wasn’t as popular with teens as it was with the elderly. It might have something to do with the fact that they were two blocks down from an elderly home. Maybe.

 

The days were slow and long, like with anything else Derek could imagine doing. He like his family’s coffee shop, though he won’t admit out loud that he just really liked working with his family. That being said, Derek was always the _grouchy_ one; a name given to him by a regular, an elderly woman named Lisa. She was nice, and well old but the kind elderly that you always see in the movies.

 

Derek has noticed one specific customer that he’s never personally had the great pleasure of taking his order. Laura was always running the front in the mornings when this kid would show.

 

Derek has taking to noticing him long enough to mark a calendar of the days he was going to show up. He won’t admit why he wakes up as early as Laura to _help_ her with the shop. She once asked him if it was because of a girl that seemed really out of her own head. The girl was nuts.  Derek didn’t date crazy, well maybe he did.

 

Kate was just crazy coated in normal.

 

This particular morning Derek was manning the front with Laura, he watched her interact with several people. She was always happy and smiling, Derek understood why most people didn’t come in when he was on his shift to man the front. But he didn’t mind, less work for him.

 

Then, then that’s when _he walked_ in. Derek pushed the swinging door and headed to the kitchen, bakery? He didn’t care what it was called, he saw them exchange a few words, and then Laura nodded her head and turned to reach for a cup.

 

Derek thought this was his chance to see his name. That wasn’t creepy at all. Not one bit.

 

She wrote his name quickly and began her work at his order. Derek took the time to—No he wasn’t staring, he was _noticing._

 

The kid wasn’t any older than Derek. His face was a light tan, better than the pale that it seemed. His eye were amplified by the dark framed lenses he was wearing, a dark whiskey color with a tint of green, his eyelashes almost intensifying the color. His eyes alone made Derek’s chest tighten.

 

Laura was back in frame and she almost blocked his sight of him

 

“ _Merci,_ ” Laura said. Derek took a moment to processes the word, she was speaking French. _French._ Derek knew Laura could speak several languages, he’s heard her speak most of them with customers. The kid Derek had been—Shut it, he wasn’t stalking—Noticing, spoke French. Derek gnawed at his lip as the boy nodded at Laura then went off to his usual seat in the shop.

 

“How long do you plan to stare from there?” Laura asked, she didn’t bother turning around to see if he was really there.

 

“You’d think that’s scare me and I’d asked if he noticed me too,” Derek retorted, “But we aren’t people, or human,” he pushed the door and took his place next to his sister, where he may or may not have a good view of the kid.

 

“Stiles,” Laura answered.

 

“What?” Derek raised an eyebrow

 

“His name, I told you so that way you won’t call him _kid_ or whatever,” Laura smiled as she worked with getting the money in the cash register.

 

“What makes you think I wanted to call or talk to him at all,”

 

“Oh please,” Laura pushed the open register closed “You’ve been a wreck since . . . that-” Laura paused, here eyes searched nothing in particular then looked back to meet Derek’s gaze, “I’d be insulting bitches and crazy bitches if that’s what I called _it,_ ” she gave him a serious look.

 

Derek caught her drift; he knew what she was talking about. _Kate_.

 

Derek took a peak from her shoulder, and there slouching comfortably on an oversized armchair, Stiles, sat reading. His hair propped up slightly, he’s jaw slightly clenched as he crossed his legs by his ankles. The dim, cloudy light creating a light glow from his skin, his beauty marks taking in the light and his eyes wryly moving and reading line for line.

 

It was captivating just to watch him read.

 

“Hey, I exist here,” Laura snapped her fingers by his ears. Which hurts, people who do that to dogs, yeah, don’t do it, it hurts. Derek winced and focused on his sister. Her amused expression played off the anger that she was trying to hold.

 

Derek smiled half-heartedly. He’s never thought someone would catch his attention like that. He never figured it would hit him like a rocket. Derek honestly felt like he needed or felt compelled to have a word with him.

 

“What do you know about him?” He asked as she snuck one last look, Laura raised an eyebrow curiously and sighed with a soft smile.

 

“He was born and raised here, his dad is the Sheriff,”

 

“Stilinski?” Derek gave Laura a daring look of what felt like shock, but looked more of a scowl. Laura laughed, “Yeah, he’s really interesting, and he loves our wolves brew,”

 

Derek shook his head, his family’s way of saying, _We’re werewolves_ , to the world was to name their coffee’s based on things around such things.  “Tomorrow, how about you run the front, I have something to do,” Laura smiled as she pushed a hand to his chest then headed to the back. Derek sighed, this was going to be a royal disaster.

                                                                                                         *******

  _First Attempt; Day one!_

 

 

Derek came in early, he was grumbling to himself as he pulled the key from the lock to the shop. (Lock shop, hehe,) He’d run through all the steps Laura asked him to do; check the safe, check the coffee beans, check the bars and breads. The usual of all things he had to do. He was setting the brewer when he heard the bell for the door ring.

 

He could smell rain, and old text books with a hint of musk apple. He turned around to see the one face that made his heart pound and the his breath catch in his throat.

 

The ki- Stiles smiled softly as he approached the counter. Derek didn’t know what his face was doing but it caused Stiles to hide a giggle as he adjusted the books in his hands. Derek cleared his throat and turned around for a paper cup.

 

“Wolves brew?” he asked, Stiles’ eyes widened slightly, the bright color almost smother Derek. His scent was different; it was sweeter, almost like someone was shoving honey in his nose. Not an all around pleasant thought but, _god_.

 

Stiles nodded, “Name?” Derek asked, he figured it be the right thing to do, instead of freaking him out even more with the fact that he knew what he wanted. Smooth Derek, _Real smooth._

 

“Stiles,” A soft accent as his voice filled the empty shop, Derek had to force himself to write and regain the control of his lungs.

 

Derek went to work and didn’t bother to see if Stiles was still standing there. As he pushed the cap on the paper cup and turned around to a pleasant smile on Stiles face.

 

“ _Etonnant, Laura ne fonctionne pas aussi vite. Merci,_ ” Stiles said, Derek tried to smile and nod. Stiles took his coffee from Derek, slightly brushing their fingers together. Stiles looked at Derek the second it happened and the smile grew wider for a slip second.

 

It felt like an eternity while Stiles was seated there when Laura walked in. Stiles had been furiously flipping through withered and yellowed pages, looking for something. Derek could call his expression on whether or not he found something. Stiles would make a hum of sorts and take a sip when he’s found something, then when it seemed like he was closer he’s jaw clenched. Dead end, Derek guessed.

 

Derek wanted to know what he was looking for, it had to be something important.

 

“How’d it go?” Laura asked, her voice cutting off his concentration on Stiles. “How’d what go?” He asked as he began to sort the cakes in the display. “You know what I mean,” she smiled as she shook her head. She leaned on the counter as Derek was squatting behind the display to organize cakes—His life, seriously.

 

“Horrible?” He glanced up at her, “I freaked him out by knowing-”

 

“His name?”

 

“No,” Derek was glad he wasn’t that stupid, “His chose in coffee,”

 

Laura smiled and gently pushed him with her foot. “He’s asked me about you, Y’know,” Derek’s sin was wired, there were chills that ran along the top of his skin. Like luke warm water beads after you get out of the ocean water.

 

He stared at her as he got to his feet, “What?” Derek almost snarled at her, Laura giggled and flipped her hair off her shoulder. She was impossible, really she was.

 

“What the hell did you say? Better yet what did he ask?” Derek felt like he was back in middle school, he always felt that way when Laura was involved.

 

“He asked if you were single, if you were always so, broody, I think was the word,” She shrugged her shoulders. Derek couldn’t believe it. That would explain the random giggle at his face, and the glance he got as their hands touched.

 

It couldn’t be, it was too good to be true. “And you told him?”

 

“You are, and were,” She answered. “We exchanged phone numbers awhile back,”

 

“Oh god,” Derek grunted. He caught sight of Stiles watching him. When Stiles noticed Derek saw his cheeks flushed and Derek could smell the sweet red apple in the air. Despite all the other smiles that circled the shop, Stiles’ scent was just that powerful to him. Stiles went back to pretending to read, what the hell was he reading?

 

“Aww, did you see that?” Laura teases. “He’s a French speaker,” Derek said as he kept his gaze on Stiles, watching him fumble his thin pale fingers trace the pages of the large text book. How long had Stiles been watching Derek? How long had it gone unnoticed? “He mentioned you this morning, I don’t know what he said, but I caught your name in it,” Derek was dazed, he was sure his face was relaxed beyond reason.

 

He hadn’t felt that way or even bothered to look that way in awhile. The fact that he’s still in the shop and he completely and utterly mesmerized by such a character, _in public_ , shows more then he’d like to admit.

 

He tore his gaze from Stiles and stared down at the empty box at his feet. “There’s something about him Laura,” Derek sighed as he reached down for the box. Laura smiled, and that alone worried him. She never just smiled about something he said.

                                                 

                                                                                                 ***** 

 

_Second Attempt; second day! (Sort of)_

It had been a week since his first real encounter with Stiles. Derek wasn’t taking morning shifts anymore. He hated morning and he would always, even with the promise of seeing Stiles, he just couldn’t do it. Though him on afternoon shifts proved to be better. Stiles started to show up as soon as Derek was in for his shift. Only ever having Derek take his order.

 

Stiles even waved off Derek’s mother. Talia, Derek’s mother, was beautiful and young, people rarely _didn’t_ want to talk with her. But Stiles walked in one morning and asked to see Derek, Talia came to look for him and tried to overcome the shock.

 

It’d been happening for almost a week, Everyone was catching on that Stiles would talk to no one else. That was the kicker of it all—they didn’t talk to each other. Derek would say “Wolves brew,” Stiles would nod, then say something and smile. Derek began to worry that he might be asking him out or telling him something important, and all he could do was smile.

 

“Laura,” Derek called from the front, “Yes, Derbear,” She sang from the back room. He hated when she called him that.

 

“Does he always speak French?”

 

“Yup,” She sang “Hs mother taught him to speak it, he never got around to learning how to speak English,” She hummed, “But he knows how to read it,”

 

That, that bit of information sent Derek’s mind out on a run through the ideas that he could possibly use to talk back to the bo- Stiles.

 

“I need your pen,” Derek demanded, “Wh-”

 

“Pen,” He growled. Laura looked through the small opening through the wall and pulled a pen from her air, “Grouch,” She twisted her face in annoyance. Derek smiled and took it from her.

 

He pulled out a pad and began to write. At this very moment, Derek was proud of his handwriting. He tore the paper out and folded it into a small rectangle and placed it in the binding of one of the paper cups.

 

Derek doesn’t need to look up to see who’s waling in when the bell rings. He can smell the sweet honey suckle and musk apple, Stiles.

 

Derek looked up from placing the note and writing Stiles name on his cup. Stiles smile was soft almost lazy

 

“ _Je ne sais pas si vous pouvez même me comprendre, mais je me sens à l'aise de vous parler. Mais vous ne dites rien. Juste sourire,_ ” Stiles said quietly, non-audible to human ears, and Derek was glad he had werewolf senses on his side. He handed Stiles the coffee and let their hands brush slightly.

 

Stiles glanced up, a slight flush crawling up his neck and closed in on his cheeks.

 

“ _Vous n'avez même pas besoin de dire quoi que ce soit._ ”

 

Stiles gave a slight nod then walked off to his usually chair in the shop. Derek waited a second, to watch Stiles find the note. Stiles eyes widened as he pulled the note from the paper binding.

_Derek’s note._

_Stiles,_

_I know you can read English. You’re always talking to me and I wish I knew what you were saying. I’m not trying to come off as creepy, but I needed a way to talk to you. I can pick up certain words, but you’re fluent and smooth, and a little too quick for me to catch anything other than a few words._

_Laura, she can talk to you. So I figured I’d write to you._

_Derek_

 

                                                                                              ******

 

_Third attempt; Stiles’ note._

 

 

Derek spent the last three days away. Literary, he was on a trip with his father. He wasn’t able to focus on anything his father was trying to talk to him about. All he could ever see or thin about . . . was Stiles. When he came from his trip, he broke a whole lot o traffic laws just to get to the shop.

 

He jumped out of his Camaro as Laura was stepping out of the shop. “I thought you wouldn’t show,” Laura smiled, she pressed a hand to her hip and leaned into it.

 

“And miss my shift for another day,” Derek said flatly.

 

“He hasn’t shown yet, I told him that you’d gone until tomorrow,” Laura patted Derek’s now slumped shoulders. “He’s got a caffeine addiction cause of you,” Laura sneakered, Derek raised an eyebrow as she got into her car.

 

Derek sighed and headed into the shop. When he rounded the counter there was a yellow ruled paper on the register.

 

 

_Derek, I translated._

_Laura._

 

Derek gave a huff and unfolded the paper. In what looked like messy cursive, was Stiles hand writing.

 

 

_Derek,_

_C'est pourquoi vous ne parliez pas de retour! Je pensais que c'était parce que vous me détestez ou quelque chose. Mais c'est stupide, nous ne savons même pas les uns les autres. Eh bien, je pourrais vous apprendre le français, et vous pouvez m'apprendre l'anglais._

_Ouais?_

Then at the bottom was Laura translation; a beautifully written paragraph.

 

 

_Derek,_

_That's why you weren't talking back! I thought it was because you hate me or something. But that's stupid, we don't even know each other. Well, I could Teach you French, and you can teach me English._

_Yeah?_

_  
_Derek smiled, when he looked up from the note. There . . . The thin, pale, whiskey eyes, beauty marks, and cupid bow lips boy was leaned against the front counter, smiling like the fool he seemed. Derek's smile was a grin and he leaned closer to the boy, arms spread wide as he leaned. His fangs threatening an exposure.

 

"Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you guys enjoyed this, this, whatever this was. (: This will be updated every Friday.


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